


A Million Dead-End Streets

by mssr_moony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst, Bisexual Remus Lupin, Canon Compliant, Depressed Sirius Black, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sirius Black, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Husbands, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Magic, Meet-Cute, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, Sad, Weddings, jily, remus is hiv positive, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 05:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssr_moony/pseuds/mssr_moony
Summary: Wolfstar au where Regulus dies after discovering Peter is the traitor. Surrounded by the pitch black of grief, an unexpected light comes into Sirius' life in the form of a golden-throated Irish singer with freckles and a penchant for summer ales and cigarettes. Mourning isn't easy, but somehow Remus makes him laugh like everything's okay again.





	A Million Dead-End Streets

**Author's Note:**

> hello! I was in the middle of revising for some Very Important Exams and got inspired to write this because I love reggie and I also love the summer remus and winter sirius trope because I just think its cute. no warnings, but very (very) mild sexual content, description of death and mourning, strong(ish) language. also remus has hiv because I think that symbolism is important.
> 
> I did edit but sorry for any mistakes, also there will be an epilogue at some point bc this fic has a special place in my heart but I cant promise when because self-imposed deadlines don't do shit for me and also I just got a new job and exams and all that. but yeah, hope you lot enjoy

Four days following the day of his best friend and brother on the same day, Sirius had found himself in a whirlwind of whiskey-fuelled fury and despair. Four months after, the whiskey aided nothing but late night sobbing on the cold wood of the kitchen floor – somehow he found more comfort on that patch of floor than anywhere else. He was all too aware of the dishes piling up in the sink and the layers of dust that coated most surfaces in his small flat. It didn’t encourage him to move; not much did these days.

Exactly five months and eleven days after Peter and Regulus had passed on, Sirius plugged his phone in to charge for the first time. While waiting for it to charge, Sirius showered for longer than usual, taking the time to pull the knots from his dark tresses of hair. His brain mustered up enough thought to realise that the hot water felt nice. He couldn’t quite bring himself to wipe the steam from the mirror – his growing facial hair was proof of everything that had happened. It looked like shit. His room seemed to echo the sentiment. Dirty clothes were strewn across the floor to the point where neither the blue rug nor the hardwood floorboards were visible. One of the lightbulbs and the batteries of the clock had abandoned their will to live – Sirius hadn’t noticed.

One of the disadvantages of prolonged depressive episodes, Sirius had decided, was the newfound lack of belief in miracles. That confidence, however, was nearly reinstated when Sirius found himself clinging to the stepladder by the tips of his fingers after his phone had buzzed obnoxiously loudly whilst he was changing the sodding lightbulb. At least the thought of dying scared him again. Having successfully brought light back to his room, Sirius carefully descended the ladder, and went to check what exactly the cause was of the incessant buzzing.

_You have_ (17) _missed calls_

Sirius scoffed, not surprised – all from James.

**_From: Prongs_ **

_18/2/19: shit, mate – heard what happened. Call me, yeah?_

_I know this is hard but please answer your phone, mate, we’re worried_

_Sirius?_

_20/2/19: Padfoot?_

_21/2/19: come on man, at least answer the door_

_please?_

**_To: Prongs_ **

_21/2/19: stop texting. im fine_

The rest of the messages after that continued in the same vein, to the point where Sirius felt his stomach tightening and his eyes blurring with guilt. Perhaps it was that feeling that spurred his thumbs to type out the next message.

**_To: Prongs_ **

_2/8/19: alright, prongs. free for brunch?_

It took less than two minutes for James to reply – the nosy bugger probably had a notification spell rigged up to his bloody number.

**_From: James_ **

_2/8/19: merlin’s balls mate, thought you’d have fused to your kitchen floor by now_

_brunch sounds good – 10.30 okay? Lily’s got a lecture at 1_

**_To: James_ **

_2/8/19: cheers, yeah. see you then_

Getting ready to go meet James and Lily for the first time in five months felt all too much like preparing for a date. Pretty much the entirety of his wardrobe lay discarded across the floor, and Sirius had upended his entire underwear drawer in the search for a pair of clean, black socks. His search was unsuccessful, so he ended up wearing one red and one yellow – completely clashing with the black and grey of the rest of his outfit. He even shaved – not quite clean shaven, he didn’t feel quite that put together yet, but he gave himself a trim good enough to make it look as though he hadn’t been wallowing in self-pity for nearly half a year. He was half an hour early to the café.

“Sirius! Mate!” James’ Quidditch captain voice bellowed through the small café, and Sirius winced at the attention that was turned towards them. “Merlin, it’s been a while.”

Sirius barely had the time to stand before James was enveloping him in the tightest of hugs, and Sirius had to blink tears from his eyes – it had been a while since he’d received any sort of affection. Thankfully, James didn’t seem inclined to mention it.

“Sirius, love,” Lily was slightly less aggressive in her affection, kissing him on the cheek as she lowered herself onto the bench opposite her husband and his best friend. At least, he thought she was less aggressive, until she leaned across the table and punched him rather hard in the arm.

“ _Fuck,_ Lil-”

“ _That’s_ what you get for not making contact in half a sodding year. I know – _I know_ – you’re hurting. We all are.” Lily paused after a rather stern look from James which Sirius pretended not to see, and her expression softened ever so slightly. “Well, y’know, we’re just glad you’re here.”

“Merlin, Evans, when did you get so bloody sappy?” Sirius asked.

“Probably since she got pregnant,” James shrugged, to which Lily shrieked, and welcomed the appearance of a well-dressed waiter to take their order.

“You’re pregnant?” Sirius cried, once they were alone again, his gaze flicking between the two of them. “Really?”

“Unless my doctor’s been lying to me, yeah.”

“Holy _fuck_ – wow, guys, that’s – merlin’s _balls_.” Sirius felt laughter bubbling up in his chest, and though the feeling felt as unfamiliar as most things did these days, he welcomed it. It trickled out of him like water from a spring, and he leant forward across the table to hug Lily as best he could in the awkward position, then gave the same treatment to James.

“So,” James said, laughing along but glancing at Lily in a way that could only be described as nervous, “we wanted to ask you something. You don’t – I mean, you don’t have to, it’s sort of maybe quite a bit of responsibility and –”

“God, you sound like you’re fucking proposing,” Lily interjected, “Sirius– do you wanna be godfather?”

And that’s when the dam broke. Because it had been a fucking shitty year – they’d lost the McKinnons – Danny and Merlene – first, then Peter, then Reggie. He wasn’t sure which of those had hurt more; was it the death of his innocent friends? The betrayal of his best friend? Or was it the unjust death of his baby brother? Ten months ago, he hadn’t even been sure if Lily and James would make it out alive. If he was looking purely at the positive side of things, he would feel overjoyed that the war was finally over, that the shitty part of his family was dead or imprisoned, and that a new Potter was being brought into the world. That was almost enough to overshadow the almost numbing pain of the death of his brother and the betrayal of his best friend. So when Lily asked him to be godfather – wanted to bestow upon him that much honour – he couldn’t exactly help the tears that began to flow freely. James’ expression softened further and allowed Sirius to lean into his shoulder, not minding at all if Sirius snotted slightly on the red material.

When Sirius returned back home, he felt more alive than he had in months, and used the energy to magically clean his small flat, going as far as to clean the oven and bleach the toilets. When it got to early evening and energy was still buzzing through his veins, he threw on a dark grey shirt and his best jacket, and headed out to the Wizard pub down the road. The pub used to be his go-to place of comfort before all the shit had happened, and he missed it, in a homesick sort of way.

“Sirius! Old chap, how’ve you been?” Came a booming voice from behind the bar, accompanied by the sound of Moody’s whirring fake eye. Before Sirius could even take a seat at his favoured barstool, Moody was pouring him a draught of his preferred lager and sliding it across the counter.

“Oh, y’know, ups and downs,” Sirius waved a hand as he sat down, reaching into his back pocket to pay for the lager, but Moody brushed it off.

“First one’s on me – life’s shite, we all need something on the house once in a while.” Sirius found himself strangely comforted by such a gesture from such a usually stoic man.

“Anyone in today?” Sirius asked, glancing over at the as yet empty stage in the corner of the room next to the Floo fireplace.

“Some student guitarist. Moved here from Ireland for the uni, or something – not too sure really, the line was shite.”

Moody had barely finished the sentence when green flames erupted from the fireplace and a rather dishevelled looking man practically fell into the pub. When he drew himself up to his full height, Sirius was somewhat shocked at how good a tweed jacket with elbow patches could look. It suited the man’s curly hair and amber eyes wonderfully, and Sirius felt the almost-forgotten pull of attraction low in his gut.

“Alright then, Moody?” the man greeted, setting his guitar case down next to the stool set aside for visiting musicians.

“Remus, wasn’t it?” the bartender asked, to which the man – Remus – nodded, then smiled as Moody slid a light ale across the counter. “You look like a summer ale sort of man.”

“You’re not wrong, there.” Sirius couldn’t help but look up at the sound of the rough tilting voice, glancing curiously up at the way the dull lights of the pub reflected off the thin frames of his glasses, and made his eyes shine. Those eyes were currently looking at him. “Hi, mate, here for the show?”

“Oh, I–” Sirius floundered, caught off guard by the gorgeous voice directed at him. “Well, I, er– just came for a pint, but – nice surprise?”

“Oh, definitely. Right – must go set up,” Remus said, draining the last half of his ale in one (Sirius did _not_ focus on the way his neck muscles shifted as he did so), and Sirius was left wondering if the strange Irish musician with elbow patches had really just looked him and down then left a second later.

“Alright, you lot?” Remus greeted the chattering crowd, testing the microphone more than anything else. “Just a start-up set tonight, just a few songs. Won’t take up too much of your time – enjoy.”

Sirius couldn’t help but admire the confidence that radiated from the man on the stage. He spoke to a crowd of strangers as if they were his closest friends, then sung heartfelt songs with lyrics containing emotions more personal than Sirius had ever expressed to anyone, except James. And his _voice_. Sirius could be convinced there was some sort of charm on the microphone if not for the raw feeling in the lyrics – his voice was gorgeous.

It wasn’t the sort of voice one could easily forget about, particularly when accompanied by such a pretty (and, seemingly, amiable) man. In the week that followed, Sirius found himself thinking about Remus more often than not. And while daydreaming about a man he barely knew probably wasn’t the healthiest mechanism, it was better than drowning himself in various spirits, then sleeping to stave off the hangover. During the next few weeks, Sirius found himself returning to the pub every Friday evening just to hear that voice again, and while not much happened in between those weekly meetings, Sirius found himself looking forward to each one.

After the second week, they had exchanged numbers after bumping into each other by chance while looking for a quiet place to have a smoke. That lent a whole new dimension to what Sirius wasn’t yet calling a friendship, and they got to know each other through sparse bursts of light-hearted messaging.

Remus was twenty three, just finished his degree and due to start his new job as a teaching assistant at the university just across from the river. He was Irish, but had been living in or around London since leaving Hogwarts; he had been in Gryffindor, excelled at Charms, and was last year engaged to a man called Danny, who had been killed in one of the terrifying bursts of muggle killings before Voldemort had been defeated. Sirius had taken long enough to reply to that that Remus had secretly worried he’d fucked up somehow by revealing his sexuality. On the other end of the phone, Sirius had felt an enormous sense of _getting better_ at his ability to type out that he had lost people too.

Four weeks after their first meeting, Sirius found himself worrying a disproportionate amount for someone he had met barely a handful of times. It was gone 9pm and the Floo had yet to release a handsome Irish singer covered in soot.

“Remus not in tonight?” Sirius tried to keep his voice as casual as possible as he directed the question towards a rather tired looking Moody.

“Should be,” he grunted back, “the bugger’s late.”

“Right.” Sirius tried not to worry for his almost-friend, but the last few years of uncertainty and sudden loss had taken their toll and Sirius had to remind himself to breathe as a familiar tightening found home in his chest. His grip tightened on his tumbler, his breath coming in short, sharp pants, and _not now, fuck, breathe you idiot, you –_

A green flash and the sound of someone falling flat on their face brought Sirius’ vision back into focus and he released his glass of whiskey from his white-knuckle grip.

“Apologies, Moody!” Remus’ voice rang throughout the bar, sounding slightly gruffer than usual, and Sirius looked up to see that Remus was absolutely drenched – sopping wet from head to foot. “Got distracted and managed to Floo myself into next door’s swimming pool – who in the fuck keeps a Floo next to a pool – Merlin on a _tricycle._ ”

Remus seemed to be muttering to himself at that point, and only noticed that Sirius was there when the latter took his wand from his sleeve and cast a drying charm over him.

“What – oh, it’s you!” Sirius chuckled at Remus’ rather frazzled appearance, and signalled for Moody to pour a draught of Remus’ usual. “Thanks for that, I – it’s good to see you.”

“Pleasure’s mine,” Sirius replied, trying not to stare the lovely blush that feathered Remus’ cheekbones. “Now, do tell – what distracted you enough that you Floo’d yourself into a bloody _swimming pool_?”

Before Remus could reply, Moody piped up from behind the bar. “Oi, stories later. You’ve got a pub to entertain.”

“Meet me after?” Sirius asked softly, as Remus parted with an enthusiastic nod and an apologetic smile.

His set that night was slightly more melancholy than it had been in previous weeks, and Sirius found himself more captivated than ever. What with the war and the death and the pain, Sirius hadn’t quite found the willingness to sing in almost a year, but the raw feeling of the lyrics combined with the almost angry rhythm of the guitar made him want to get up on stage and provide a harmony to Remus’ raspy, lilting voice. He settled for tapping his fingers on the bar and keeping his eyes trained on the beauty in front of him. Throughout the set, Sirius worked his way through another whiskey and three of those summer ales that Remus seemed so fond of; by the time Remus was packing up, he felt pleasantly buzzed, and nodded to signal to Remus that he was heading out the back for a smoke.

“Nice set,” Sirius greeted when Remus joined him a few moments later, proffering a cigarette to the man in front of him.

“That’s a nice case, that.” Remus gestured to where Sirius was holding his cigs, accepting the cig and lighting it with a click of his fingers. For a moment, Sirius was enchanted by the way Remus used magic – his movements fluid and easy. That, combined with the amber light that was casting beautiful shadows across Remus’ cheekbones had Sirius feeling more than a little weak at the knees.

“Thanks, yeah, it’s from my best friend. We’re, um, very close and I might have gotten a _little_ jealous when he decided to propose. So this was my best man gift.”

“Consolation prize?” Remus asked with a smirk.

“Ha – sort of, I guess. I mean – it’s got an inscription, he put his vows on the back of the sodding thing.” Sirus explained, unsure as to why he felt the need to offer his entire soul on a plate to this man he barely knew. Thankfully, Remus smiled, like he would do nothing but take care of that soul.

“I’d make fun, but that’s sort of adorable. The best thing my friends ever got me was a crippling fear of large bodies of water.”

“Thalassophobia?” Sirius said. Then, when Remus looked confused at his odd general knowledge: “Things get boring when you have months-long depressive episodes. I might have spent a few days looking up random phobias.”

“Well, least I know what it’s called now. I’ve been calling it _I’m-terrified-of-water-because-my-friends-left-me-in-the-middle-of-the-lake-on-my-inflatable-bed-while-i-was-sleeping-phobia_.” Remus said drily, laughing slightly when Sirius doubled over in giggles, a hand against the brick wall to steady himself.

“Bit of a mouthful, that,” Sirius said with a wink, to which Remus snorted.

“You are a bloody menace,” Remus said, extinguishing his cigarette on the wall behind him, and turning as if to go before spinning back around and stepping closer to Sirius.

“This is – this is nice, right? Just ‘cause – I was thinking you might–”

“Wanna go on a date? Because the answer would be yes, absolutely, of course,” Sirius replied, the words like jelly in his mouth as his heart beat wildly in his chest. A moment of hesitation from Remus had Sirius panicking and wanting more than anything to take back his last sentence because _fuck,_ he didn’t wanna lose this glorious light from his life. But then Remus’ expression softened, and he took another step closer.

“God, I was nervous asking that. I’m glad you said yes.” Remus’ grin was wide as he brought his hands to grasp at the lapels of Sirius’ jacket, eyes glittering.

“Not to distract from how sweet this is, but I’d very much like to kiss you right about now,” Sirius murmured, bringing one hand to touch the part of Remus’ neck where his hair tapered off, and settled the other on his waist. Remus beamed, and pulled Sirius forward for a kiss that tasted like cigarettes and ale and summer and happiness and Sirius felt as though he was about to melt into the floor. Allowing Remus to push him backwards gently against the wall, Sirius fully relaxed into the kiss, enjoying the feel of Remus, heat radiating from every part of his body. Not long enough had passed when Remus pulled away gently, tucking an errant strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. No one had looked at him like that in a long time.

“Free next Saturday?” he muttered into the silence. Sirius pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth before answering.

“Absolutely.”                                                                                                                    

“There’s this band playing at the old fire station – they make for good entertainment. And the beer’s cheap.”

“Long as you’re there I really don’t need convincing.”

As they parted ways that night, after many (many) more kisses, Sirius couldn’t help but notice that he felt more like himself than he had in as long as he could remember. His heart felt light and his stomach was full of the best kind of butterflies. With Remus on his lips and his mind, Sirius had a dream-free sleep and woke up to the pleasant stirrings of arousal low in his gut. After months of little sleep due to the nightmares that had wracked the starless nights, waking up to something that didn’t make him want to sob face down on the kitchen floor was a welcome, if unfamiliar, feeling.

During the week leading up to their date, Sirius did more than he had in the five months since everything had taken a drastic turn towards _pain_. Sirius had started by magically washing and ironing every single item of clothing that he owned; that included what he had been wearing, meaning that there had been a very close call involving his iron and a part of his body he was rather attached to. By the time Thursday rolled around, his apartment was spotless – walls repainted, mirrors polished, and all appendages mercifully free of any more iron mishaps.

Despite his apparent burst of (dare he call it) luck in the happiness department, Sirius had still had to dredge up an immense amount of courage to open the door to the spare room for the first time in months.

He had bought the flat in a spur of the moment decision almost two years ago, after his Uncle Alphard had finally kicked the bucket. Of all of his shitty family, Alphard had been one of the most bearable, and it had been an entirely shitty experience to know that he was dying and yet be banned from seeing him because of his even shittier family. The inheritance money had been exorbitant, and had only further deepened rifts between him and his family that were already wider than any ocean he knew of. When decorating the modestly sized apartment, he had originally bought a double bed for the spare room, thinking that it might get used every now and then. As it turned out, Lily and James had a far more welcoming household, and they always had better food anyways – James was quite apt when given the right spices, whereas Sirius lived off of beans on toast more often than not.

Opening the creaking door had taken more will than he would admit to anyone who asked (not that anyone would). Once he did, his throat closed up immediately and it took all that he had to stop the blurring in his eyes becoming fully formed tears. A drum set, dusty with lack of use and faded on one side from the constant battering of the sun that shone in through the blinds he had never bothered to close. In the corner of the room, an electric guitar sat alone next to an amplifier which had a music book splayed out on top of it. The tears started to flow freely when Sirius realised that the music book atop it was splayed open on the page displaying the music for _Heroes_ by David Bowie. The last moment of his time with Regulus shot through his brain like a rock through ice.

_“Come on, man, I know for a fact you can go lower than that,” Regulus chided, setting his guitar down and perching on the stool next to it as Sirius bowed his head next to the microphone which stood tall in the middle of the room._

_“Ugh, I thought this song would be easy,” he groaned, longing for the safety of a set of drums to hide behind. Who thought it would be a good idea to let him sing – in front of people, no less?_

_“It’s Bowie, mate. Look just – let’s try again. I’ll go high, you go low.”_

_Sirius just nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before launching into the song._

_“I wish you could swim_

_Like the dolphins_

_Like dolphins can swim_

_Though nothing, nothing will keep us together_

_We can beat them, forever and ever_

_Oh, we can be heroes just for one day…”_

Less than one month later, and three days before they were due to perform the song at James and Lily’s wedding, Regulus had been found dead. Alone, scared, under the boot of a Dark Lord who had almost been destroyed by the actions of one brave man. Regulus had died doing the right thing, protecting his brother and friends,  and Sirius would never get him back.

As his eyes swam, the room appeared variegated by the rays of light and he thought, not for the first time, that this loss might just be one of those insurmountable things. He left the room without so much as touching either of the instruments, but couldn’t quite bring himself to close the door. He had taken less than five steps before Sirius felt himself falling from the harsh cliff of his resolve and he slid to the floor, sobbing.

By the day of their date, Sirius felt what he could only describe as completely and utterly fucked. His text conversations with Remus had dropped off slightly in the past few days, for the most part due to Sirius’ inability to actually get up and find his fucking phone charger. He had hardly left his bed except to piss and eat when he absolutely had to and honestly _fuck_ death, and loss, and mourning – fuck it _hard_ and with vigour because this should have been a happy day. His first date in a year with a man as gorgeous and talented as Remus bloody Lupin should be a fucking _happy day_. He wasn’t going to let it not be one.

An hour later and Sirius was one step away from capitalising the damned thing in his mind; The Date, however, sounded like a bad 90s rom-com, to which Sirius had never been particularly attached. He did find that the lead-up to their little meet-up was almost fitting to a film. The afternoon filled itself with nervousness bordering on panic, and Sirius had even gone as far as to demand James and Lily’s presence at his apartment in the hopes of finding something decent to wear.

“Holy _Christ_ , Sirius. This guy had better be worth it,” Lily said, and whistled as she entered his flat via the Floo, her sentiments echoed by James as he followed a moment later, catching sight of Sirius stranded in the middle of his living room, surrounded by a veritable sea of greys, blues, and blacks, looking as lost as a sailor on an unsteady raft.

“Well,” James sounded equal parts bemused and exasperated as he took in the sight of Sirius surrounded by clothes and yet wearing nothing but a pair of well-fitting back boxers and mismatching socks. “You could just go as you are. Doubt he’d be complaining.”

Sirius scoffed as Lily piped up, “for once, James is actually right. Seriously, how the fuck did you keep your abs after not moving for five months?”

“Fast metabolism?” Sirius replied, hiding a pleased grin behind an annoyed façade.

“So,” James said, perching himself on the counter in the adjoining kitchen, “where’s the date?”

“Old fire station. Some muggle band Remus likes,” Sirius replied, shucking on a striped yellow and black shirt before throwing it to the floor in frustration. How did a person live for twenty-three years and never acquire one decent fucking outfit?

“Ugh, _fuck_ , you’re worse than James was before our first date,” Lily groaned, as she finished sorting through the melee of clothes on the hardwood floor. “Black jeans – the tight ones, he’ll appreciate that. This shirt, here, matches your eyes.”

As Lily chucked the clothes at him, he got changed quickly, not missing the way James’ cheeks blushed pink at Lily’s authoritative tone.

“With the, uh, black jacket,” James added, “not the denim one, though. That makes you look like a twat.”

“Oh bloody cheers, Jamie, mate,” quipped Sirius, shrugging on the black bomber jacket. “Right – good to go?”

Ever the dramatic, Sirius took a twirl as best he could in his limited stage space, receiving sarcastic applause from his two best friends.

“Knock ‘em dead, fuckin’ Casanova,” James chuckled, following Lily into the Floo. Sirius followed close behind, taking a deep breath before checking his hair one last time in the mirror next to the mantlepiece, then grabbing a handful of Floo powder. He tried to ignore the incessant tingles running from his toes up to his chest.

The Floo deposited him in a flash of green light in the wizarding pub just two streets away from the old fire station; he nodded shortly at the bartender, who glared at him for using his pub as a pitstop, and left the bar swiftly. No sooner had he taken two steps out than he felt his heart jump like a scratched record.

Underneath the amber hue of a tall streetlight stood the holy vision that was Remus Lupin. His tall, broad silhouette was shadowed in the dim light and those beautiful hands were cradled around a hand rolled cigarette and an old-fashioned silver lighter. He had the aura of someone who was messy and put together at the same time, unruly hair falling perfectly over the crown of his head and an ancient jumper thrown over a smart button-up. Who knew Doc Martens could match corduroy trousers so perfectly?

“Looking edgy as ever, Lupin,” Sirius greeted, grinning widely as Remus started, almost dropping his smoke as he returned the smile.

“Merlin, you look like you’ve stepped out of Italian Vogue or something.”

“French would be more accurate, actually,” Sirius replied, elated at how easy conversation seemed to be flowing already.

“Oh, of course, the cheekbones give it away.”

“Like your freckles don’t scream Irish.” Sirius thought in that moment that he would be happy if Remus’ laugh was the only sound he could ever hear again, with the way it bubbled from his chest and erupted into the night air.

In the next few minutes, Sirius learned that the band they were due to see was called Potential Days, that Remus had been playing the guitar for nearing seventeen years, and that he was HIV positive.

“Just so you know before things get – if they get – if we keep seeing each other. Best to get deal-breakers out of the way first.” The way Remus had said it had made it seem as though he couldn’t care less what Sirius’ response was, but the nervous picking of the loose thread on his sleeve gave the game away.

“Okay, then,” Sirius had responded, wanting to quell those nerves as best he could, “well, my brother and best friend died about six months ago and I can count on both my hands the number of times I’ve left my house since. I’ve been doing better, but I can’t promise that random things won’t make me break down.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry, Sirius,” Remus said, gently squeezing his hand and pinning him with a look that showed genuine empathy. “No pressure, but I’ve got ears if you ever wanna talk about it.”

“Maybe not right now, but… I might take you up on that one day.” They smiled at each other, and began their walk to the fire station.

“You’re not…” Remus started, bowing his head as they neared their destination, “not bothered by the HIV thing?”

“It’s honestly not a big thing – I’m glad you’re honest about it, and as long as you, y’know, _use protection_ and all that,” Sirius trailed off, not entirely sure how to finish without sounding like he was assuming. Apparently, Remus didn’t have the same concerns.

“Of course – even in my fantasies, we’re always completely safe, I assure you.”

Sirius felt himself flush a dark red at Remus’ smirk, and was glad for the sudden darkness of the venue and the noise that saved him from having to reply immediately.

The band, to Sirius’ fair surprise, was fairly decent. A little too heavy on the bass for Sirius’ taste, but the roaring of the crowd proved them popular enough; and besides, Remus seemed to be having a great day. Plastic pint glass in his hand and a euphoric expression on his face, Remus was dancing in the limited space available to him, and Sirius certainly wasn’t complaining. The main reason for his lack of whining was Remus’ preferred _style_ of dancing, even if it didn’t fully match the genre of music before them. He was all up in Sirius’ personal space in a way that he would detest if it was anyone but Remus grinding up against his thigh. Around the fourth song, Sirius began to feel the pleasant swirls of arousal blooming deep in his gut and he abandoned his empty pint glass to put his hands to better use.

“Was hoping you’d catch on,” Remus muttered close to Sirius’ ear as the latter moved his hands downwards to pull Remus’ hips even closer. Sirius did naught but smile in response, matching their moves to the deep beat of the music. After a while, Sirius forgot about the cacophony of people surrounding him, forgot about their jabbing elbows and splashing beer as he focused on the way Remus’ hands felt roaming up and down his sides. All the songs blended into one as Remus pressed gentle kisses to his neck and nipped at his lips; if he was honest, he wasn’t particularly bothered – the songs were a bit shite, after all.

“Sorry about the music,” Remus said, pulling away for a second as if echoing Sirius’ thoughts, “a friend recommended them. Wanna get out of here?”

“Mm, sure,” Sirius replied, kissing him softly before following as Remus led him by the hand from the overcrowded venue.

Despite knowing the area relatively well, Sirius had to admit that he was completely lost as he followed Remus through the dark streets. To be fair ti him, he had never had any reason to venture this side of the river that cut through town like a lightning bolt.

“Where are we heading?” Sirius asked as they passed the university; Remus stopped in his tracks at the question and looked up at Sirius wide-eyed.

“Shit! I didn’t even ask – fuck, sorry, lemme start again.” Remus turned to face Sirius, taking his other hand and smiling widely. “Sirius – do you wanna come back to my place?”

The grin Sirius returned was equally as wide and he felt it pulling at his dimples in a way he hadn’t felt for a while. “Absolutely.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright, alright, you lot, settle down,” James’ baying voice echoed throughout the full capacity hall, “I’m trying to make a speech here.”

Lily’s voice was then added to the din as she used her patented _frustrated mother_ tone and quieted the cheering congregation in less than ten seconds.

“Thanks, love. Right, on with the speech. Sirius Black – you’re an idiot,” James started, receiving laughs and jeers from the audience, “I love you to fuckin’ bits, mate, but you’re an idiot. You’re arrogant and vain and _way_ too sarcastic. You can’t cook for shit and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to your apartment and it’s been even vaguely clean. You give my kids sweets ten minutes before dinner and I’m still convinced you’re the one that taught Harry how to swear. But you’re also kind. You’re funny and caring and I’m so blessed to have had you in my life for nearing nineteen years now. I couldn’t have asked for a better brother to be with me for the good times and the shit ones; I don’t know much, but I do know that you and Remus deserve each other, and we couldn’t have asked for better godparents. Remus, mate, you came into Sirius’ life at the worst possible time – honestly, guys, he didn’t leave his flat for like, five months – and, not to get poetic, but you just lit up his life. You guys bring out the best bits of each other and it’s so fucking sweet I’m surprised we all don’t have toothache. _Okay_ , before I start crying or something – congratulations, you guys, I love you both more than words can say.” James wrapped up, swiping furiously at his eyes and hoping no one noticed. “Right, everyone raise your glasses – to Sirius and Remus!”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos HUGELY appreciated bc im a desperate writer and I need validation love u


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